In My Untreated State
by The Forgotten Nobody
Summary: Simon has a nightmare of killing his mother. Kieren offers comfort.


_He opens his eyes and it's dark. He's encased, trapped within wood and he wants to get out, he needs to get out. He scratches at the wood, fingernails digging into the prison that confines him and leaving splinters in his fingers. He breaks through and then its soft. He continues to dig, earth falling onto his face and into his eyes. It doesn't bother him, he hardly notices it. He doesn't know how long he does this but eventually his hand reaches open air. With more burrowing his body, slow and lethargic, follows. Around him he can see other bodies but they don't interest him. He's hungry. An all-consuming need fills him. He needs food. He needs to eat._

_His body moves sluggishly as he makes his way through the cemetery. He bumps into a few gravestones but don't let them deter him. He has his goal in mind. He needs to survive. He needs to eat._

_These thoughts repeat themselves as noises start to appear in the distance. He follows the sound and stumbles out of the trees to see a light. The light acts as a beacon and it entrances him. Walls block the light and he presses against them until he smells it. Food. Knowing that all that stands between him and his meal are the walls, he agitatedly pushes against them with sudden strength, groaning as the barricade resists. _

_Around him he can hear high pitched noises, screams, yet they don't distract him from his objective. He moves along the wall until he hears a creak. Shoving against the wood with all his power, it breaks away and he can move inside. The scent is stronger now and it beckons him. He moves towards it and it grows stronger. He needs to feed. _

_Thumps echo from above and he trails after it. The scent intensifies and he sees his food in front of him. It walks towards him and he reaches out towards it. _

_"Simon? Simon, is that you?" He doesn't understand the words and he doesn't try to. He just needs to eat, to taste, to survive. _

_"Simon, what are you doing? Do you understand me?" He grabs a hold of the food and eyes the flesh hungrily. He opens his mouth but it struggles. It screams as he grabs the skin with his other hand and opens his mouth. The first bite sends a rush of satisfaction through him. His food struggle more but his clasp is resilient. He won't let go. He needs more. _

_Soon it stops resisting and he can access more. It satiates him in ways he cannot describe and he eats all he can until there's nothing left. Another noise makes him perk but he doesn't go after it. He is full, he has eaten, he will survive. It doesn't move, so he bypasses it. _

_"Simon…," it says, but he still doesn't comprehend. He walks away until it grows again, that same hunger, that desire, the need for flesh…_

Simon jerks awake, his body sitting rigidly upright and breathes coming in short, unnecessary bursts. Beside him he can feel Kieren stir and though he tries to keep quite so he won't wake, his body refuses to obey him. He can't get his hands to release their clutch on the duvet and his breathing won't steady.

Simon had always just assumed he'd never remember his time as a rabid. He'd accepted the fact that he would have remembered them by now if he ever would so to see himself, to recollect his thoughts, his actions…oh god what had he done. His father had told him he'd done it but a small part of him said if he didn't remember it, maybe it hadn't happened. Maybe it hadn't actually been him. But now he's seen it, and he'd _enjoyed_it…

He's out of the bed in a flash and in the toilet, vomiting up black sludge. He's never sure what it is, considering they don't eat, but it empties out of him until he can just retches, the memories still haunting him. Simon barely hears the footsteps.

"Si? What's wrong? Are you sick?" Kieren sounds so worried and it pains Simon's heart. Kieren shouldn't worry about him. He's a monster. He'd killed his own mother, he'd _eaten_her. How Kieren could even stand to look at him he doesn't know, but then he doesn't know does he? What would he do if Simon told him, told him what he'd done. Would there be disgust, horror? Everything he'd ever told others, that they are special, that they are blessed, feel like lies. He is not blessed.

A hand is placed on his shoulder and Simon flinches away. The creases on Kieren's face deepen.

"Simon, seriously. Do you need to go to the doctor?"

"No." The words are said with such force that Simon himself is surprised, let alone Kieren. Hurt is evident in his eyes and a small part of Simon is pleased. Good, let him be hurt so he leaves, leaves Simon alone because if he stays Simon may hurt him and that's the last thing he wants to do. A larger part says that breaking away from him would hurt him even more, Kieren has lost enough.

"Sorry, I just had a nightmare," Simon admits, wiping away the residue of the sludge from his mouth. "A flashback."

"Flashback? I thought you said you didn't get them," Kieren says and Simon is relieved to see that the tensions lines have faded slightly. He hates causing Kieren to worry.

"I didn't. Till now."

He still can't get the memory out of his mind, except this time their mixed with memories when he was living and with his mother.

_A five year old Simon watches as his mother bakes._

_She screams as he tears into her arm. _

_He gets an A in a test and she tells him she's proud._

_Blood drips from the bite marks._

_She yelling at him, telling him he's wasting his life._

_Her eyes go glassy, her body slack in his…_

"Simon? Simon!"

Simon jolts out of the memories viciously at Kieren's voice coupled with his touch. He retches over the toilet once more as Kieren strokes his back.

"You're ok," Kieren mutters above him. "You're safe."

Simon wants to laugh. Kieren has no idea about how not ok he is.

"Do you want to talk about it?" Kieren asks once he's calmed slightly and is just leaning heavily against the bathroom wall.

Does he want to talk about it? Does he want to burden Kieren with the knowledge that his boyfriend killed his own mother, albeit in the rabid state, but still – enjoyed it? Kieren was strong enough to fight of the blue oblivion when his family was in danger. Why couldn't Simon do the same?

"Simon, you're worrying me. Say something, please."

"I'm sorry," Simon says, voice rough.

Kieren gives a sigh of relief and offers Simon a small smile.

"You don't have to be sorry. I just worry about you. What did you see?"

Simon's lips press together, a subconscious attempt not to reveal what he saw. He doesn't want to tell Kieren, but he should know. He needs to make an informed decision about whether he wants to stay with someone like Simon.

Kieren must sense his reluctance as instead of asking him again, he circles an arm around Simon's shoulders and says, "Come on, let's get you up and back to bed so you're comfortable."

Simon allows himself to be led to their bed and for Kieren to arrange him so he's sitting, Kieren's arm still held around him and anchoring him to the present. They sit in silence for a few moments, Simon wondering how to phrase his words that Kieren waits patiently for.

"It was…my mother," he finally says and Kieren's gaze turns towards him, attentive and far too understanding. "My father, when he'd come to see me, had told me she died. I assumed it was from the Rising and that was why my father struggled to look at me. It was, but it wasn't some random stranger. It was me. _I'd killed her._" The words feel like poison in his mouth and he resists the urge to flee back to the toilet.

"Oh Simon," Kieren breathes and Simon's body tenses. This was it, Kieren would leave him, he'd…

"That wasn't your fault. You weren't you back then."

"But it was me, I saw it, I enjoyed it! My own mother…," Simon argues, trying to rip himself out of Kieren's grip except his stubborn boyfriend won't let go.

"Stop that," Kieren orders. "We all did things in our rabid state that we regret." Kieren closes his eyes briefly and swallows. "I killed Jem's friend and you know what? I liked it too at the time. If you're a monster then I'm one too! You were just unlucky Si and remember what they told us to say? We are not responsible for the things we did in our rabid state. You are not responsible."

Simon gives a mocking grin. "Tell that to my father."

"Fuck your father!" Kieren exclaims with such vehemence that it makes Simon jolt. "I don't care Simon, I'm not going to leave you over this if that's what you're worried about. I love you Simon Monroe and I will not leave you." Kieren's face is close to his own so he can see the adoration displayed in his eyes. It stuns him. Almost as much as the love declaration does.

"You love me?" His voice comes out as a whisper.

"Yeah," Kieren nods. "Yeah I do. And I won't let you beat yourself up about this."

Kieren's hand comes up to cup his face and he leans into it. Kieren never ceases to surprise him. He can make the cool, calm persona Simon has built up for himself since integrating back with the living vanish within seconds and still want to be with him. For one who carries so much guilt and grief himself, Kieren is determined that no others should bear it.

"What did I do to deserve you Kieren Walker?" Simon asks, mainly to himself but Kieren responds.

"You helped me when I needed it, so now let me help you."

Simon hardly thinking considering to kill Kieren counts as helping but he doesn't argue. Instead he allows Kieren to manoeuvre them both so they are back to lying down and unlike how they usually sleep, it's Simon's head which is pillowed on Kieren's shoulder. It's a position designed to offer him the most comfort and Simon takes it. He would take anything Kieren offers and then do all he could to give back.

"I love you too," Simon murmurs when they are settled and he realises he never returned the sentiment.

"Oh good, I was a bit worried," he says, only half teasing and Simon promises then and there that he will prove to Kieren how much he is loved so he never has to worry about it again. They fall asleep tangled up together and though the flashbacks come back, Kieren is always there.


End file.
